Tales of the Past
by LadyKuonji
Summary: A collection of stories. This has characters from both Dragon Age 1 & 2, and Skyrim. Meant to add character depth to the story "The Deadra Mistake"
1. To My Readers

Dear Readers,

To those who have read my story The Deadra Mistake, do not panic. I have not abandoned that story and started anything new. On the contrary I feel Tales of the Past will help enhance the story even more. At the moment I only have six chapters posted for my Dragon Age, Skyrim crossover; however I have more chapters written out ready to be corrected and added to the book. This collection of short stories is meant as a diversion, something to "wet your whistle" as the saying goes, until all those chapters are edited and ready for reading.

The reason I have these stories is because I feel certain characters are not given the attention they deserve, I mean they are only side characters so why would they need any extra care. It is just as I am writing The Deadra Mistake there are certain characters I felt needed more rounding out. So when I was having writers block I began to write side stories for all my extra characters. Turns out I had allot more than just "Oh this is how he/she did event X which lead him/her to meet my character Y" I saw development in my (both main and side) characters I never imagined! And it would be remiss of me as a writer not to share the stories with all of you.

I hope you like these side stories!

Your Lady,

Kuonji


	2. Theatta Nadaar

Tales of the Past: Theatta Nadaar

The sound of hooves hitting cobblestone greeted the ears of a sleep deprived Redguard. When the carriage hit a stone, she jumped and hit the side of her head against the wooden frame. Blinking she looked around; her vision was dim, her eyes gummed from lack of sleep, and the throbbing of her injury made it hurt to open her eyes. A groan reached her ear and she turned her head to see a Nord man in his late thirties with dirty blond hair and deep blue eyes. The Nord made the moaning noise and when she looked closer she could see he was gagged and tied. As her vision began to clear she saw two more men across from her both Nord. One looked almost like her gagged companion; however, his hair was an even brighter blond and it had a few less braids. The last Nord surprised her, he looked nothing like his brethren at first glance; his hair was a mud brown tangle and his skin looked pale and clammy. The dark-skinned Redguard ground her teeth in frustration, _of all the times to get captured_ she thought. What made it even worse was the fact that she was sitting right across from the man who stole from her.

The younger Nord looked up. "Hey, Redguard… You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us…" he nodded toward the thief, "and that thief over there."

The man covered in mud looked around nervously. "Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along… Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and be halfway to Hammerfell… You there… woman. You and me - we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

The Redguard bared her teeth. "Oh you mean _My Horse_? The one you decided to take while I was sleeping? That horse… I have been chasing you half way across Skyrim for this?" She leaned back, throwing her bound arms into the air, glaring. "Ohhh…" she snickered, "When we…When we do finally stop I am going to tell the guards exactly what happened."

The man made an almost comical gulping noise as he looked away. "You probably stole that horse anyway."

"Wait…" The blond Nord said, "so you're a thief?"

The Redguard smiled sweetly. "Oh? How very observant of you… do you want a sweetroll?"

"No reason to be cynical… We are all brothers and sisters in binds now."

The woman just sniffed and looked away. "What's his story anyway…" she nodded toward the gagged man.

"Watch your tongue thief! That's Ulfric Stormcloak, the _True High King_!"

The woman looked blankly at the man for a moment then toward the gagged Nord, her mouth gaping. "Wait, you're _THE_ Ulfric, the one who killed that kid. The High King?"

When the gagged man nodded she began to laugh. "Ohh… this is just great, just wonderful! You know where they are sending us right?"

"Oh Divines!" the horse thief moaned.

"Yes, may Nocturnal protect me…"

The guard looked back and glared at the woman. "Shut up back there."

The woman leaned forward her head nearly touching the blond man who was sitting across from her, her eyes studying Ulfric. "What surprises me…" she whispered "is how Ulfric isn't using his '_mighty_ Thu'um' to help us get out of this mess."

Ulfric's eyes snapped open and he glared at the copper skinned woman.

"Don't give me that look." She hissed "Only your wrists are bound you could easily pull that gag off and do something." She then shrugged her shoulders. "But I guess even that is too much for you..."

"I said, Shut Up!"

When the guard spoke Ulfric gave the Redguard an 'I told you so' look, making the woman roll her eyes and look away. The cart hit another rock making the woman slam into Ulfric.

The guard looked back and smirked. "So sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"Asshole."

Slowly the cart turned a bend revealing the stone walls of Fort Helgen. The woman looked at it in awe, to a thief it looked like the ultimate challenge. The only thing was she was afraid she would never get to experience that challenge. Her heart sunk in disappointment as the cart driver's next words proved those feelings were true.

"General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!"

The General was sitting on a copper mare and his grey hair was flat and oily from being in a helmet for too long. He looked to be in his late fifties and signs of stress were evident on his aged face. What surprised her most was the man's expression. She could see hints of sadness, resignation, and determination; almost as if he regretted what was happening. Sitting across from Tullius on a chocolate stallion was a High Elf. There was an air around her that annoyed the Redguard and she tried her best to burn holes into the golden elf's skull with her glare.

"Good. Let's get this over with." Tullius called. He looked toward the elf, smiled grimly and with a respectful bow of his head directed the mer toward the headsman's block.

The dirty Nord began to mutter under his breath as the cart went under the forts imposing arch. "Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. _Divines, please help me_…"

The man sitting across from the Redguard sniffed. "Look at him. General Tullius the Military Governor. It looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this."

The Redguard leaned back and looked back at the Nord. "Do you need to blame everything on the elves? Do you want the truth about how you got captured? You were clumsy… you became too ambitious and thought you could get away with terrorizing the civilians of this land. If you had just laid low for a few months, you would have been able to get away with more but you wanted it all now. It was your greed for power and blind ambition… that's how you ended up here…" She looked away and tapped the guards shoulder. "Look, umm… Good Sir, I have nothing to do with these people I was just chasing after this thief here nothing else…"

"By the Gods, if you do not shut up now I will run you through and do the headsman a favor!" The guard growled. He pulled the rains of the horse and the cart came to a halt.

"Why are we stopping?" the mud covered Nord cried.

"Why do you think…" mumbled the Redguard, "it's the end of the line…"

"No, no, no, no, no…" he looked at the woman pleadingly, "you must tell them that we are not rebels!"

The Redguard just looked at the man with pity. "Don't you think I tried? Face your death with some courage. At least we will all die in our homeland."

The blond Nord looked at her in surprise, as he stepped out of the cart. "You're not from Hammerfell?"

"No." She looked away and watched as everyone from the carts line up to have their names called out one by one. Everything appeared to move in slow motion as Ulfric's name was called then the young Nord, Ralof. Then the thief's name was called.

"No! I am not a rebel! You can't do this to me!" The man, _the fool,_ ran and was shot by the archers standing by the gates.

The Redguard shook her head and her eyes were directed back to an Imperial woman and a Nord man who were reading the list of names.

"You, Redguard! Come forward." The sun reflected off his red hair like a crimson halo.

Slowly she stepped forward and, when she looked into the man's eyes she saw shock and remorse and a flutter of hope entered her heart.

"Who are you?" He whispered.

Trying her best the Redguard brought tears to her eyes. "M… My… My name is Theatta Nadaar…"

The man looked down at his list and his brow furrowed. He then looked back to his Captain, the Imperial woman with an icy glare. "Captain, we have a problem, she's not on the list."

The woman smirked. "Forget the list; this thief goes to the block."

The Nord's eyes closed for a moment and his skin paled. "By your orders, Captain." He looked up at Theatta. "I am sorry Lady Nadaar, we will make sure your remains are returned to Hammerfell."

Real tears began to flow from her cheeks. "I'm… I am not from Hammerfell… I am from Riften… I was born in Riften…"

The Nord looked down at his list then back at the Redguard. "We will make sure your remains are sent to Riften."

She weakly smiled at the man and bowed her head. "Thank you…"

Everything began to blur as Theatta watched the Priestess raise her arms her voice ringing over the great stone walls of the keep. As the woman prayed to the Gods, Theatta bowed her head and began to prey to her dark mistress Nocturnal. "Soon my lady. Soon I will join you in the garden of shadow. May my soul guard your sanctuary for eternity…"

"By Talos! Let's just be done with this!" One of the prisoners cried. He stepped forward and stood in front of the chopping block. As the Captain shoved the man to his knees he looked up and grinned. "My ancestors are smiling at me Imperial, can you say the same!"

The axe whistled and a soft thump echoed; his head was gone.

"Next! The Redguard!"

A noise could be heard in the distance. "Did you hear that?"

"I said, _Next Prisoner_!"

"By your order, to the block prisoner, nice and easy."

_It's funny_ the Redguard thought as the block got closer into her line of vision; _I knew I would die someday… but I always thought it would be during some great heist. Not this…_

The Captain pushed her and Theatta felt the warmth from the dead man's blood on her cheek and neck. As her eyes closed she could hear a deep roar.

"Oh, Gods!" A sentry called.

"Archers what do you see?"

"It's in the clouds!"

Then all went black. When she regained consciousness Theatta partially remembered the ground shaking, the world looking fuzzy, and a great black beast with wings. Her vision cleared. She was inside the fort. Her old armor was removed. She was now wearing a set of light fitting armor. Looking down she saw her old leather armor burnt and torn in a distorted mass on the cold stone.

"I am just glad to be out of that armor…" She whispered. She grinned at the man who had saved her. Ironically, it was the man who first asked her what her name: Hadvar.

"And I am glad the armor fits…" He looked around, picked up a sword and tossed it toward her. "Here give this a few swings and see how it feels."

Theatta glared at Hadvar for a moment before doing what he asked. She was pleased to feel a blade in her hand once again and she smiled as she performed a few moves causing the Nord to gasp.

"Where did you learn moves like that?"

"A man by the name of Gallus. He was like a father to me…"

"So you don't know who your family was?"

"Did I say that?"

"No but I assumed…"

"Exactly you _assumed_. Let's just go…"

They fought their way through the keep, killing any man who attacked them and trying to save everyone else. As they made their way past a small spider den Theatta stopped.

"I need to thank you for saving me… I know I haven't been very pleasant company but still you saved me." She smiled, "I have some friends in Riften; if you need anything you send word to me alright?"

Hadvar nodded and smiled. "I will but we have to get out of here first."

As they continued their way down the caverns the Redguard noticed a bear standing by the exit. She sighed, there was no way both her and Hadvar would be able to sneak past the bear, she might but defiantly not him…

"Hadvar, there is a bear over there you see it right?"

The man nodded. "Yes, where she is we won't be able to get past her… I picked up an extra bow here do you think you could give me some cover fire?"

"No I am still mastering that weapon; my aim isn't good, I might hit you."

"Alright I will use the bow, go and use those fancy moves I saw inside the fort."

Theatta smiled and nodded. "Prepared to be amazed."

Amazed is defiantly a word Theatta would use in future tellings of this story. As she snuck up on the beast it suddenly turned and its right paw clipped her shoulder. She wasn't even able to strike the beast; instead, it was Hadvar who once again saved her life.

Within moments the Nord was by her side and lifting her up. "Hold on Lady Nadaar," He whispered as he carried her toward the exit, "We'll get out of here."

"My hero…" She groaned, "I… really need to learn how to use a bow…"

"That might be useful. Damn it I knew we should have taken those healing potions from the storage room." He shook his head as the rays of the evening sun stuck his face.

"I'll be fine. I have been through much worse trust me…"

Hadvar smiled grimly, they both knew her strength was waning and he feared the loss of blood would kill her. _Why am I doing this _he thought _this woman means nothing to me… so why am I trying my best to save her?_

"Hey Nord…" Theatta looked at him seriously, "Why are you trying to save me? Any clear minded man would leave the dirt covered thief and continue on their way. But not you, why?"

The man said nothing as he continued down the dirt path toward the Guardian Stones. As he approached, he saw a elven woman kneeling there her arms outstretched in worship. Her eyes were closed and her mouth open in silent prayer.

Slowly he placed Theatta down on the ground and looked back toward the elf. "Lady Elf! Tell me do you know any healing magic?"

The elf turned around and glared at the young man. "Of course I know healing magic. Any mage would know how to heal." She then looked at the injured Redguard and sighed. "I see…" She stood up, walked over, and placed a hand on the gaping wounds. "I hope you don't mind having scars because you will have them."

Theatta laughed. "Does it look like I care about having a pretty face?"

The elf smirked. "No I guess not…" Her magic skimmed across the woman's skin as it knitted itself back together. When she finished the elf pulled a small green bottle from her hip bag and handed it to Theatta. "Here drink this. It should restore your strength." She then looked at Hadvar and handed him a bottle as well. "You will need to drink some too. You both look like you were kissed by a troll."

Hadvar smiled. "Bear actually."

The elf sniffed. "Typical, perhaps you should learn some healing magic. Could save your life."

Theatta shook her head. "Magic is for the weak."

"So is bleeding out. If you don't like magic why not learn alchemy? Unless you like the idea of dying that is. "

"I was fine…" Theatta stood up and wobbled. Her hand resting on the elf an Hadvar for a moment then she straightened. "See all better…"

Both the elf and Hadvar rolled their eyes as the woman walked around cautiously. The elf stood and looked at the Nord man. "Tell me Nord what happened?"

Hadvar smiled. "Well Lady…"

"Diyari, Hira Diyari…"

Hadvar bowed, "Well Lady Diyari there was a dragon attack on Helgen. As far as I am aware Lady Nadaar and I are the only survivors."

The elf ground her teeth, her wheat colored cheeks darkened to a burnt umber. "The _Fools_! I told them… I told them a dragon was coming."

"You knew the dragon would attack Helgen?"

"No, but I had my suspicions. The Winterhold College sent me to investigate some strange energy in Elsweyr. I just didn't expect that energy to be a dragon…" She looked sadly at Hadvar. "I am sorry Good Sir, I know you must have lost some friends during that attack. Believe me I tried to tell them…"

"I believe you."

Theatta looked at the elf her eyes grazing over her simple garb. "You are a strange one High Elf…"

The High Elf raised an eyebrow. "You are a strange one too Redguard. It's not every day I get to save an agent of Nocturnal."

Theatta smiled and stepped forward placing a hand on Hira's shoulder. "I guess I owe you my life…"

The elf smirked. "I guess you do…"

"Don't ruin the moment." Theatta's eyes narrowed. "You saved my life so that makes us oath sisters. If you ever need anything send word to Riften."

"Of course, good luck on your journey Lady Nightingale."


	3. Valgus and Hira

Tales of the Past: Valgus

It was the 13th of Evening Star and the snow was dancing across the Steed Stone, its gray surface hidden by a layer of ice. The Stone's spear shaped form stood as a beacon to those lost. However, unlike many of its counterparts, this beacon was hidden away from prying eyes on a small plateau behind an imposing mountain.

A High Elf smiled as she got closer to the small ring of stone pillars. The sound of the ocean could be heard and the air held a salty taste. As she walked up the steep slope of snow, she could see the sun beginning to touch the ground in a red glow. This place was a miraculous discovery for her. It was secure and still. No one to bother her. No one to demand her attention. Isolation that is what this stone offered her and she was happy to accept it.

But today it was different, as the mer approached the manmade plateau she was confronted by a man. He was kneeling in front of the Doom Stone, hair, gray like powdered ash, blowing in the cold winter winds and body dressed in robes the color of dull rust. His skin was pale, ashen, and flaking from the harsh winter. With his head bent and eyes closed, a simple prayer hung on his dried and cracked lips.

"…and watch over us, souls of Aetherius, so that the bird may triumph over the serpent… and we may live in a world where champions can live as children once again."

The elf stood there, shocked by the sight before her. Never has she seen someone with such a somber aura. Her dark eyes followed the movements of his chest as he slowly exhaled and looked up at her. Like the rest of him, his eyes were gray and dull, lifeless.

He slowly stood. Carefully, he turned and slightly bowed toward her.

"Ah, greetings, fair lady." He whispered, looking back at the stone once again; the carved horse seemed to glow softly from his simple prayer. "Do not let me stand in your way, as I did not come to the stone for its blessing or its succor."

The mer slowly snapped out of her hypnosis and a wave of irritation came over her. This MAN, and an Imperial for that matter, was intruding on her place of solitude. Her mind raced trying to figure out how this person found this place. How could he have found this stone, true it wasn't as far away as the Tower Stone, but that didn't explain how he ended up here.

Her hands shook, her eyes glaring into the aging Imperial and because of her lapse in concentration the next words slipped out with a venomous sting.

"Go find yourself the Mage Stone, old man. The Steed is not for you."

The pilgrim's eyes widened in surprise, and then he shrugged realizing he wasn't wanted. "Actually, I did not come to the Steed for its assistance, but rather to offer mine." His eyes seemed to sparkle for a moment. "Perhaps it is no coincidence that you arrived not long thereafter?"

The man then began to walk away, leaving a confused and somewhat remorseful mer standing in the cold; snow dusting her cloaked shoulders and head. It took several moments for her to speak again, in years passing she would comment on how it felt like decades passed in that moment but in truth it was only a single breath.

"What was the prayer for?"

The man stopped and looked back. The elf's back was turned and all he could see was her proud shoulders and dark hair; however there was an aura about her that showed him she was genuinely curious.

"It was just a few words for the souls in the sky that watch over Tamriel. These stones are like a bridge that connects our world to theirs."

His breath hitched for a moment when she whipped around to stare back at him, their eyes connected; he could see a calculating look in hers, yet under all that he could also see something else: happiness. She stared at him for several seconds, her eyes questioning. Then turning she broke the connection and touched the cold stone.

"You believe in that too?" She laughed. "We are a rare breed dear pilgrim." She looked back at the gray haired man and smiled grimly. "Please accept my apologies. I usually come here for seclusion, my emotions tend to be… difficult to manage."

The man nodded. "Of course my fair lady, and my apologies for not properly introducing myself as well; my name is Valgus, a healer who follows the stars."

The elf gave one last look at the Steed Stone, sighed, and knew she wouldn't be able to meditate today. She turned and faced the sun, the light warmed her skin. Looking next to her the elf smiled at Valgus.

"My name is Hira… I hope we meet again pilgrim of the stars."

-xox-

Hira sighed as she walked toward one of the Imperial camps. In her knapsack was a large stash of health potions she has been making for them. Hira smiled at the thought of Fasendil's smile when she handed him the potions as she smiled the memory of how she met the High Elf soldier came flooding back to her and she smiled. The cold wind suddenly kicked up and she shivered as she crunched through the snow up towards the encampment. Wooden barricades and grim faced soldiers greeted her as she made her way to the Legate's tent.

The closer Hira got the louder the muffled voice of Legate Fasendil became. "I must thank you again Healer. If you weren't here to help my men I don't know what I would've done."

"It was the least I could do. However, I am worried about future attacks. I may not be around to heal your men."

Hira's eyes widened at the sound of that man's voice. In a rush of excitement and fear the elf rushed into the tent. The Legate looked up and smiled when Hira pulled back the flap to the Legate's tent to reveal, Valgus.

"Ah, you no longer have to worry… Hira it is good to see you. I received you letter two nights ago, I was concerned."

Hira smiled as she passed the gaping Imperial and placed her knapsack on the strategy table. The pack clunked as it fell open to showing a plethora of potions.

"It is good to see you too Legate," She smiled towards Valgus. "Valgus, I see you are doing well."

The man closed his mouth and straightened. "Yes I am fairing quiete well."

Hira nodded, "That is good to hear"

Fasendil smiled at Valgus and Hira. "You two know each other."

Valgus's lips quirked. "You could say that…"

Hira crossed her arms and looked pointedly at Fasendil. "Legate, perhaps we will share the tale of how we met but for now…I have fifty minor health potions for gashes and flesh wounds. Twenty major health potions for broken bones and open arteries. And lastly ten Ash Hopper Jelly Extracts for men who will you feel will die. Do not, I repeat DO NOT use those on a man who only has surface wounds, it will kill him."

The Legate frowned at the ten little bottles. "You bring me some potent stuff Hira. Are there any side effects?"

"There have been reports of hallucinations after drinking the jelly extract."

Valgus frowned as he looked at the bottles. "Those shouldn't even exist. They are too dangerous to use. Even for emergencies."

"This is war Imperial…" Hira's voice was flat as she looked at Valgus. "I was asked to make something that would be beneficial to the war."

Valgus picked up one of the bottles and rocked it back and forth; the jelly barely moving inside the bottle. "If this has the potential of killing a man then it shouldn't be distributed…"

Hira's cheeks flared, and her lips trembled. "If it has the potential of saving a life then it should be given to that man or woman."

"With the potential of making those people hallucinate or die…"

"The potion is meant for someone who is at death's door. For a soldier who sees Sovernguard!"

Valgus's face paled and he looked away, biting his lower lip.

Legate Fasendil bowed his head toward Hira and collected the potions. "I see. I will hold onto these. Thank you for bringing them to me."

Hira placed a hand on the Legate's shoulder her brow furrowed. "Just stay safe."

"Of course."

-xox-

Hira was walking down the path toward Solitude when she heard a shout behind her. Turning she saw Valgus running after her. She ground her teeth at the sight of him; however, she waved back and waited for him to catch up. By the time he reached her Valgus was panting and he had to put hands on his knees to catch his breath. His skin was flushed from the run, his hair was out of place, looking down Hira could see a smile on his pale face. For some reason it was this smile that made her smile back.

"I…I…'m glad I caught you…" He looked up his grey eyes giving off a spark Hira never thought she would see in the man.

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow. "Now that I am captured what will you do?"

Valgus shook his head and leaned back his face looking at the stars. "I wanted to know where you got the Ash Hopper Extract."

Hira yawned and stretched her back; she then began to walk once more toward Solitude. "Walk with me."

Valgus groaned at the idea of more walking but decided to oblige the mer. Their pace was slow and Valgus noted how the High Elf was taking smaller steps than normal. Part of him hoped she was doing this for his sake but he wasn't getting his hopes up.

"So where did you find the extract?"

She smiled and looked down at the Imperial. "Would you believe me if I said I made it."

Valgus rubbed his chin and looked forward. "Yes, perhaps. You would still need to get regular Hopper Jelly however, and if I am not mistaken that can only be found in Morrowind."

"My father had some connection with the First Councilor in Raven Rock. With the Councilor's help I was able to get the ingredients needed for the extract."

"I see…"

Hira smiled. "Is that the only reason you wished to speak with me? Or is there something else?"

Valgus smiled and offered his arm toward Hira. "As it happens My Lady I am heading in the same direction as you and was wondering if you would like a companion?"

The High Elf looked at the Imperial for a moment, surprise etched onto her features. "I have been told many times that chivalry died. It is pleasing to see this isn't the case." She lightly gripped the man's arm and they walked slowly together.

Valgus bowed slightly at Hira. "My Lady is kind."

-xox-

Valgus yawned as he stretched out his weary body. It took him longer to get to Whiterun than he had hoped. The long trek through the snow made him stiff and sore. Slowly he walked down the stone path toward the Temple of Kynareth, his eyes roaming the empty streets. He wasn't surprised that no one was out tonight; the cold would make anyone wish they were in Oblivion if it meant escaping this cold. Finally, Valgus made it to the temple. He pushed open the wooden doors with frozen fingers, and stepped inside.

"Valgus thank the Divines you are here!"

Valgus looked up to see the Priestess of the temple running up to him, blood covering her hands and exposed arms.

His eyes narrowed. "What happened?"

"Some fool thought it would be a good idea to go out on the Giant's camp and try to take some of the sap from the tree that grows there. The damn stuff is preventing me from healing the wounds the man got from the beast's club."

"Do we have some way of counteracting the effects of the sap?"

The priestess shook her head. "No, I asked Greenthumb to help us find a way. She is down at the apothecary shop right now." She desperately looked behind her at the other healers as they tried to heal the Nord who was lying on his back, chest caved in as if he didn't have any rib bones. "She should be back soon, until then, please help me. We need to keep him alive for as long as possible."

"Understood"

Several hours passed and Valgus was beginning to worry. This Greenthumb, the priestess mentioned was taking her damn time. The Nord who was lying on the stone table was in a fragile state, it took three healers plus himself to keep this man from dying, and if he was being honest with himself, he would admit his magic was nearly wiped out.

"This can't be good…." The priestess whispered. "I figured she would have a counter to the sap by now."

Valgus frowned, the priestess was right if this woman was as good as the other healers mentioned before then there should have been some sort of word by now.

The priestess frowned. "I am afraid we may lose him."

Valgus shook his head. "That won't happen."

"Perhaps…"

The wooden doors flew open and crashed into the wall. With a start the team of healers watched as a woman covered in furs from head to toe came rushing in, a bottle of brown looking liquid in her hands. The head priestess stood with a relieved sigh as she accepted the bottle from the woman's hands.

"Danica! I have it! Though… there is no guarantee he will drink it…"

"I knew you wouldn't let us down Hira!"

Valgus gave a start at the name and stared at the woman as she removed her furs to reveal the dark haired mer he had seen only a few days ago. Memories came flooding back to him; her elegant form, her raven hair blowing gracefully in the wind, and a light he never thought he would see again. Valgus mentally shook himself for the Nord man needed his attention more than this elf.

It took only a few moments to feed the injured man the vile smelling liquid. The effects were almost instantaneous. The man's blue eyes, which had been dilated from the sap, slowly returned to a normal state and his quick and sporadic breathing became slower and slightly ragged. Valgus watched on in amazement at the potion's effects; he had to admit the mer was able to produce something that would have taken any normal alchemist weeks if not months to complete.

All the healers got to work immediately, healing the man's broken bones, torn muscle and, internal bleeding. The elf, Hira sat on a bench near the healer's table her eyes watching with great interest as they healed the man. When healers finished they all slumped back, their magic drained but their spirits high, because they were able to save the Nord.

Valgus felt as if his whole body wanted to sink into the ground, part of him was wondering what was keeping him up.

"Here…"

Valgus looked up with heavy lids and saw a green bottle in front of his face. He stared at it in confusion for a moment before looking up at the person who was offering it. "What's this?" He whispered groggily.

"It's a stamina potion… It will help with the effects of your depleted magic…"

Valgus just stared at the elf, he then eyed the drink suspiciously. "I think you grabbed the wrong drink my lady. Magic potions are supposed to help with magic depletion."

The elf just sighed and placed the bottle in Valgus's hands. "I know that… but have you ever noticed that even when your magic is regenerated with a potion you're still tired?"

When Valgus nodded Hira sighed again. "That's because it takes mental stamina to focus your magic… I thought you healers knew this?"

Valgus's lips tugged at the corners as he downed the drink, he was pleasantly surprised at its sweet honey taste. "Most healers…" He stretched as the potion took effect, "are not trying to save a man from a brawling match with a Giant."

"Ah, so that's what happened… I thought he was running around in a 'sapped up' rage and he fell."

Valgus shook his head. "No, he was fighting Giants in a 'sapped up rage'…" he looked up at Hira and smiled.

She smiled back and sat down next to him. Slowly she stretched herself out on the bench, her head laying on the wooden wall and feet stretched out. When she spoke again it was barely a whisper. "You know… I do a lot of traveling and I could use someone with your skill by my side."

Valgus raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Hira sat up and stared at the statue of Kynareth, her face revealing no emotion. "Yes, you don't have to join me of course. It is completely your choice."

He stared down at his clasped hands for a moment before smiling. "As long as you don't call me 'old man' again."

Hira's eyes widened and she stared at Valgus for a moment before laughing, her cheeks coloring a light shade of burnt umber. "I do apologize my priest. I was hoping you would forget that."

"Well I guess I could forgive you since you apologized." He paused for a moment, looking around and he smiled once more. "I would be honored to travel with you."

Hira's lips parted and a wide grin spread across her face as she stood. "Wonderful! Now then, shall we go?"

Valgus smiled up at his new companion. "Yes."


	4. Qa'jo

Tales of the Past: _Qa'jo_

She stood there with her mud-brown tail wrapping around her body while leaning against a dead tree stump. Her white fangs glistening against her dark scaly lips as she sneered at the silent stranger standing in front of her. She got a tingle down her spine, the kind she gets when a predator starts to stalk her through the marsh. Like a cold fish.

She swallowed. "What do you want stranger?"

His black leather mask tilted in curiosity, or at least what normally would be interpreted as curiosity. He wore no coat of arms, or any other means of identification. He was either not under a noble man's rule or was a freelancer, mercenary. However she never saw a mercenary wear what this man wore, it was tight leather died a somber black with crimson red arms and legs. He had a hood covering his head and a black mask over his mouth and nose; obscuring any way to identify his birth race. A flash of movement caught her eye and she watched the fur belt that wrapped itself around the man's waist loosened and began to sway. He stepped out of the water and onto the small mound of dirt she was standing on, his tail twitching every time it touched the water.

"Qa'jo was wondering about this one. The one who 'braves the marsh'."

The argonian shivered at the sound of the cat-man's dusty statement. His voice carried well in the marsh lands and the instant he spoke the whole area hushed, more out of fear than respect.

She laughed, her whole body shaking. "And I am curious about the one who thinks this tiny puddle is a marsh!"

The Khajiit tilted his head, the slits of his red-gold cat eyes narrowing at the argonian woman. "Qa'jo does not think this is a marsh. He is merely repeating what the villagers stated in Morthal." He shifted, allowing the lizard-woman to see his corded muscles shift under his armor. Another shiver, another fish swimming up her spine.

Her next laugh came out as a huff and she looked into his blood soaked eyes. "Ah ha. I see. Well, what does that make you stranger? A copy-cat?"

She heard a low hiss and watched as his hand twitched over one of his daggers. "This one should learn to be more polite."

Her lips parted into an even wider grin. Even though she felt her life was in danger she felt something akin to humor in his behavior. "Sorry stranger. It is just you adventuring types are so easy to tease. I cannot help myself when you leave yourself open like this."

"Qa'jo has a name. It is Qa'jo."

The argonian woman smirked. "Alright Qa'jo. What brings you out here? Other than to disturb my peace."

The cat-man turned to look out at the "puddle". "Chaurus venom and spider glands. To hunt."

"Well I have nothing better to do, so if you want any help just say the word I'll hunt with you."

Qa'jo nodded and began to walk away. He then paused and looked back. "Name."

"Excuse me?"

"Qa'jo shared his name. It is only polite this one shares hers."

"Anum-La"

The cat-man nodded and walking away.

"Let's hunt."

* * *

-xox-

* * *

As Qa'jo stepped through the door of the sanctuary he was greeted with a blond haired white toothed smile. "Ahh our protégé returns. Tell me do we have new leather to make those snake skin boots I always wanted?"

"No."

The smile vanished and a sneer replaced it. "What? What did you just say…"

The cat-man removed his mask revealing a dark furred Khajiit with a crimson mask made from paint covering his eyes and nose. The paint seemed to emphasize the large burn marks on his lower jaw and neck, along with the deep scars on his nose. "Qa'jo said no, since Qa'jo was never given a contract."

The blond woman leaned forward her breath coming out as a low hissing sound from her clenching teeth. "What do you mean you were never given a contract? I gave you a damn contract now I want you to go back out there and kill that argonian worm!"

"Qa'jo refuses."

The woman raised her hand, a strip of metal gleamed from the golden light of the candles. In one quick movement she brought the piece of metal down across his scarred face. She smirked when she heard a quiet grunt from him. "You… Dare… to disobey me? It was I who accepted you into this family and I can toss you out if I feel like it. You are nothing but a stray. Do you understand?"

"Qa'jo hears this one but he still refuses."

She continued to sneer at the tiny smirk the cat-man gave her and she struck once again. "Tell me _cat_ why I shouldn't toss you out right now. Why after years of service you decided to abandon your loyalty."

"Qa'jo has not abandoned his loyalty, he is showing it." The cat-man shifts so that his back was against the corridor's wall. "The Night Mother has arrived so Qa'jo is waiting for the listener to appear so he can serve the listener, The Night Mother, and Sithis."

The blond blinked her mouth open enough to slip a Septim through her parted lips. Then she began to laugh. "Oh this is rich. The clown got to you too I see. Very well it seems I will be fulfilling one of Sithis' commands." She unsheathed a dagger. "Qa'jo you have betrayed your family, The Night Mother, and Sithis. And in doing so shall be punished with death."

Qa'jo's ears flattened and he hissed. As the blond lunged forward he jumped down the corridor stares to his left. Calling magic to his hands the cat-man felt the ice which he summoned block the corridor behind him. He breathed a sigh of relief. However he knew this feeling would be short lived, not wanting to cause any more suspicion he walked down the stairs as if nothing interesting happened.

"Ho ho ha ha! Kitty made Astrid maAAaaad."

Qa'jo turned his face towards the person who spoke, his ears flat against his skull. He was quickly grabbed from behind and a leather hand was put over his mouth. As he struggled against the attacker he could feel the man's grip tightening even more.

"Hush now Kitty-cat… Don't want Astrid to hear you…"

The man Qa'jo recognized as the 'Jester' pulled him up into the room that Night Mother was in. When he closed the door Qa'jo was released. Breathing the cat-man looked at his 'rescuer'. The man's name is Cicero and as Qa'jo nicknamed him, he is a jester, both body and soul. The man's auburn hair hung in lose ringlets under his pointy clown hat and he had on what looked like a cross between red and black sleep wear and formal dress. He had a lopsided grin plastered onto his sand blasted face.

"Kitty kitty what did you do to make Astrid so angry?"

"Qa'jo refused to fill out false contracts."

Cicero giggled and began dancing. "Ohh ohh Astrid was not happy! No no no! Mother would be quite pleased to hear you are following her will and not that of the false leader."

_I aaammmm._

Qa'jo's ears perked up. "By the moons. What was that?"

_I am pleased Qa'jo. By disobeying the false orders you have revealed both Astrid's true nature and yours. Such dedication deserves a reward…_

Qa'jo stepped away from the mad jester and toward the sound of the voice. "Who is this?"

_It is me my son. Your Mother._

Qa'jo stood in front of the twisted coffin that held the Night Mother's remains. "Night Mother…"

_Welcome home my listener._


	5. Macsh

Tales of the Past: _Macsh_

* * *

Bright light flooded his vision forcing him to close his eye out of pain. After a few moments the feeling passed and he opened his eye to see he was looking out onto a crowded market area. The sunlight passed through large white pillars covered in ivy and blue and violet flowers. The sun felt warm on his skin and he sighed, his body sinking lower into the corner of his box.

He felt a shake forcing him to sit up once more. "This one is not allowed to fall asleep. It will soon make Dro'bar good coin."

He growled lightly at the cat-man. Before he was captured he was living comfortably in the old ruins with the machine men. Though he has to admit to himself that he did miss the others, he feels a twinge of sadness as he thinks about the piles of dust that were once his friends.

Some movement caught his eye and he watched as tall elf creatures with wheat skin and golden hair glided from vender to vender looking at wears and passing coins. A few of these creatures passed by the Cat-man's stall to give him a curious glance before walking away. His heart quickened their energy was strange, he saw waves of light silver-blue light dancing around their bodies in tight chains. Cold, controlled, untested; very different from Atherius's blue-golden wave like aura or Oblivion's dark purple threads.

He whimpered lightly, he did not want to be bought by one of these beings. To be honest he didn't want to be bought at all, but the glass box he was in he had no real choice in the matter.

He looked away not wanting to watch the creatures' movements or see their painful auras.

A sing-song giggle broke his thoughts and he looked at a young wheat skinned child with dark raven hair. His eye widened as he looked at her; though he could see the tight chains of blue, he could also see small tendrils of dark purple mixed with light gold. It was beautiful. "Ohh it is so cute what is it?"

* * *

-xox-

* * *

Her father promised to take her to the market place that day to learn about the ins and outs of bartering. Her eyes widened in awe as she watched the hustle and bustle of the busy town square. The pillars of white marble towered over the heads of all the passerby's. Each stall held a different array of items ranging from weapons to food.

She watched as her father strode confidently between stalls inquiring about the more exotic looking herbs and their alchemical properties. Her mind raced, trying to figure out what different potions or salves these new herbs could create. When they began to finish up she noticed a small stall near the edge of the market with a sand colored Khajiit. The Cat-man noticed her stare and smiled waving her over.

Tugging at her father's arm she pointed to the Cat-man. "Father, can we look at one more stall please?"

He looked over towards the stall a small grin graced his lips as he bowed towards his child. "Alright Lady Diyari, just this one."

The elf child squealed and rushed over to the stall her eyes widened as she stared at the items lying across her.

The Cat-man smiled even wider as he waved his hands over his small stall in a welcoming motion. "This one is interested in Dro'Bar's wears?"

The father walked up beside the child as her eyes settled on a small glass box. "Ohh it is so cute what is it?"

The Cat-man smiled as he raised the box so that the father could get a better look at the creature inside the box as well. The thing in the box shifted so it was looking at the tall man, its single eye glaring. It was no bigger than the child's fist and looked like a ball covered seal skin; from what the father could tell it had only one eye with a mix of dark brown, silver and violet. This was no normal creature, but something akin to the deadra he sometimes summons to make deals for void salt. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. If this creature was indeed from a Deadric realm there could be dire consequences towards those who permanently bound this "deadra" to this realm.

"Do you understand the dangers of holding a deadra against its will?"

The Khajiit's smile faltered for a moment before it returned. "Dro'Bar does not understand what you mean…"

The tall elven man grinned as he leaned forward. "This being is a deadra can you not feel it Dro'Bar? I can only assume it was you who bound this creature, it appears to assume that it was you who did it."

The creature opened its mouth barring its teeth: it growled at the Cat-man and jumped towards the Khajiit.

The elf sighed. "It is only a matter of time before its Prince realizes it is gone and starts looking for it…"

The Cat-man jumped slightly and handed off the box to the elf. "Dro'Bar has decided to give his elven friends a premium offer! Dro'Bar offers this fine creature for the girl as a pet!" He then began to pack up his things ignoring the stars of passerby's. "No need to argue with Dro'Bar once he makes up his mind it is done. No refunds!" And as quickly as the Cat shoved the glass case into the elf's hands he left in what can only be called a comically large cloud of dust.

* * *

-xox-

* * *

They used magic to open the door to a house just on the edge of the market. It was a decent size, with two stories made of white marble and granite stone. When they stepped into the building he could see the inside of the house was made of different variants of oak wood. Once they were out of sight of any pedestrians was he finally set down. He squeaked as the large hand of the male elf reached into the case and picked him up.

He rolled around the elven's hand for a few moments before settling down and looked around. His eye finally settled on a woman, older than the elven child yet slightly younger than the man holding him.

"What do you have my love?"

"I am not sure dear. However it appears to be sentient. I fear the repercussions of this creature being locked in this realm."

The child pouted for a moment. "You are not planning on giving him away are you father? The merchant said I could keep him…"

The voices of the large elven people washed over the creatures head as he stared at their auras. Their energy was nothing like he has ever seen before. They all had strong chains bound to their body like loose corsets. Yet the chains moved in synchronized rhythm with the soft ribbons of Oblivion and Atherius twisting among the chains. The child appeared to be the one with the most ribbons; whenever she played with a simple spell he could see her fingers dancing with the raw energies of the spirit plains. It was beautiful, mesmerizing.

"It cannot stay with us my child. Keeping it around could be dangerous."

"But he has no family! He doesn't know who his parents are!"

He blinked and turned his single eye towards the child once again. His eye widened, when he looked into her golden eyes he could see the insides of her irises were the color of violets. She was a natural conjurer, though she may not realize it now she has connected with him on a level he was only told about. He felt that in years to come this child could become a very powerful and respected in the spirit realms.

The father blinked and looked back at the tiny creature. "Is that true little one?"

He nodded, his body rolling around in the large elf's hand. It was the truth he had no one to call his parents. The ones who made him are long dead or lost in the dark cosmos of the necromancers' realm.

The elf frowned and placed the small creature down onto the table. "Hm well this does bring up a whole new dilemma…" He paced back and forth for a while before turning towards the creature. "That only leaves us one option. You shall be a guest in this house until we find a place for you to call home."

The creature squeaked and hopped up and down, an amazing feat considering this creature appeared to be only a ball of fuzz.

The child squealed as well and scooped up the small being. "You will have so much fun living with us Macsh!"

The father looks down at his daughter one of his eyebrows raised. "Macsh?"

The mother who was quiet this whole time giggled and smiled. "Whenever he squeaks it does sound like he is saying Maac-sh doesn't it child."

The child giggled and nodded. "Mmhm. I hope you like the name!"

He sat there a while in the palms of the child, his head rolling around the name. He then smiled. "Maac-sh!"


End file.
